Warmth
by Cosmic Creativity
Summary: "Al!" He let go of his mother and ran to his precious little brother. He wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. He was even warmer than the matches. He felt his body shudder as broken sobs escaped him. "I've missed you so much..." "Come on, Ed. It's time to go home." Based on the short cartoon, 'The Little Match Girl'


_**Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, nor do I own The Little Match Girl, from which this story was inspired.**_

 _ **Dedicated to Alyssa. I'm not going to lie, the short film made me cry just as much as you. T^T**_

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A young boy walked through the busy streets bustling with people. His golden hair blew wildly in the freezing winter wind and he reached up with his free left hand to draw his worn down red hood closer to him. In his other hand, he held a little wooden box. A flash of silver near the frayed wrists of his jacket revealed the cold steel underneath. He gazed down sadly at the measly collection of matches that rested in the old box. He puffed out a shuddering sigh as he walked over to a couple of well dressed men, his bare feet crunching in the snow- one of numb flesh, and one of unfeeling steel. He held out his little box, offering to sell a match. The men shook their heads, their eyes filled with a mixture of disgust and guilt. He shrunk in on himself, a deep feeling of hopelessness settling in his gut. Was it the automail this time? Or was it...

"That boy... Xerxes... Golden eyes?" He frowned as they walked away, a few of their words drifting to him on the cold wind. He whirled around and went in search of more people who might be willing to buy a match, feeling the stinging of snow on his face. He reached up and tried pulling the his hood down further over his eyes, shielding the golden irises from view as he offered out his matches, each time getting the same answer, the same pity.

After hours of walking through the cold winter night, he finally gave up. He found a dim alleyway and sat himself down against the cobblestone wall, drawing his coat around him in a feeble attempt to keep warm. The wind picked up steadily, whipping at his thin clothes and tearing at his hair. He shivered violently. He looked down to the little box cradled in his lap. He hesitated before reaching for one of the matches, holding it gingerly between two metal appendages, twirling it. He stared at it, mesmerized. These matches were all he had. And he was so cold...

He struck it against the wall, smiling softly as it burst into a tiny flame. He held up a hand to protect the little flicker of warmth from the brutal weather. He sighed at the warmth it provided, letting his mind wander as he stared into the soft light. He could imagine a great big dinner. Warm and delicious. A huge meal waiting for him when he returned home. Grinning, he reached out to grab a piece of the steaming morsels. His hand was met with only thin air as the fire flickered out, leaving him in the dark and cold once more. He frowned as shivers wracked his body with new found vigor.

He hurriedly reached for the next match, lighting it quickly and huddling close to the flame as he imagined a Christmas tree, glowing brightly with lights and ornaments. It would've been around this time when he and his family would've put up their tree. He looked up at it sadly. It was beautiful, and he found that he missed it desperately. He turned around as a woman with chestnut hair and kind grey eyes walked up behind him, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. His eyes widened as he reached his hand up to grasp hers. But before he could feel her warmth, the illusion was gone.

He cried out in anguish, frantically grabbing the rest of the matches and striking them all at once. They lit with wild brilliance. He looked up to the tree in his mind's eye once more. He turned around to face the woman standing there.

 _'Mom...'_ He flung himself at her, tears streaming down his face as he clung to her desperately. He felt her hand on his head, stroking through his unruly hair in a soothing manner. He sniffed as he pressed his face into her side, hugging her tightly. He opened his mouth to speak, when a tiny voice spoke up from behind him. He turned his head to find the source of the new, but somehow familiar voice. A boy with short golden hair and brown eyes stood smiling at him, his eyes gentle and kind.

"Al!" He let go of his mother and ran to his precious little brother. He wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. He was even warmer than the matches. He felt his body shudder as broken sobs escaped him.

"I-I've missed you so much, Al," he cried. He felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around him and return the hug. His brother whispered reassuring words to him, letting the tears stream freely down his cheeks. However, the sensation of having his baby brother in his arms again was slowly fading as he came back to reality, feeling the biting cold once more.

"No," he screamed, reaching desperately for his brother, but he was gone, leaving him back in the alley. Alone. He gasped, choking on the sobs that wracked his small frame. He clenched his fists, drawing them to his chest as he closed his eyes, trying to ignore the frozen tear tracks on his face, and the fresh warm tears that still leaked from the corners of his eyes.

Trisha and Alphonse looked down at the boy in the snow. His body had stopped shaking and snow dusted his clothes, sticking to his lashes. There were bags under his closed eyes and his lips were a deep color of blue. They smiled sadly. Trisha knelt down in the snow, cupping the boy's cheeks gently in her hands.

Edward, it's time to wake up," she whispered softly.

"Yeah, brother. It's time to go home," Al exclaimed, tugging on his brother's sleeve. His eyes fluttered open and he looked up at the two, a happy smile gracing his blue lips. He reached up, his hand groping for the other's. He felt fingers close around his cold hand. Slowly he stood up, taking his brother's hand in one of his own, and his mother's in the other- both of flesh and blood instead of cold steel.

"I hope it's warm," he choked out as he walked with them, grinning the whole way. Oh, how he had missed them.

The next morning, Edward Elric was found dead in a lonely alley, a smile still gracing his lips, the now empty box of matches laying abandoned at his side. And just like that a little warmth had left the world. A warmth no one had ever felt or known. The little match boy, was gone.

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 _ **~Cosmic Creativity**_


End file.
